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Perspectrum

"Retrospect the tales how I traversed some of my worst miles, witness as I shed layers anywhere from my last breath to my first smile."

By DeWayne "DEStination" SawyerPublished 5 years ago 2 min read
Perspectrum
Photo by Anjali Mehta on Unsplash

My BRONZE boots,

tracking progress during my daily pursuits,

earning revenue while seeking truth,

the radiance peeking through,

inside of my eyes you're seeing youth.

The colors flutter,

I wonder how things look through God's shutters?,

I know I've suffered like no other,

Though I've also grown tougher,

ounces and hours of focus I'd muster,

examine all that I've built for myself with no structure,

on hands and knees laid bricks in the YELLOW road's construction,

there's importance in keeping your soul productive,

Take pride in my work I've learned that when residing in a house of BLUEs,

idle hands can be so disruptive.

So disgusted

I harken, I revisit, I rewind,

When I revealed those EMERALD tinged eyes,

In a different time,

I thought other's successes would've prevented or hindered mine,

What was on my mind?,

How'd I miss those signs?

How could I be blind to all the greatness installed in my solid GOLD design?

Unbeknownst to I,

those GREEN envious optics were misplaced appreciation for whom I'd hope to see myself aligned,

grew my understanding glancing at AMBER skies,

I find it the best time to unwind and uncover the SILVERlines.

I endue these hues to you bibliophile,

above I compiled,

details that my dome documented and filed,

ever since a submersed child,

Glimpses of gorgeous metamorphic conversed styles.

Speckles, spatter,

and every drip after,

makes surveying the canvas worthwhile,

Retrospect the tales of how I traversed some of my worst miles,

creator by nature,

bare witness as I shed layers anywhere from my last breath to my first smile.

Heard how I've decoded emotions?,

Transcribed mine and other I'm close with,

honest and open,

outlet for the times I was broke

but also broken,

Soaked in love daily and obliged to bathe whichever unquenched soul approaches.

Absent understanding is the bridge I pray to complete,

feelings filling saturated spectrums though my canvas loose leaf,

Mind stagger through inner thoughts and at times I lose sleep,

Hence why I scribe for the emotionally weak, instruct others how I came to levels I never thought I would reach,

my technique speaks,

I'm rather unique.

slam poetry

About the Creator

DeWayne "DEStination" Sawyer

"Retrospect the tales how I traversed some of my worst miles, witness as I shed layers anywhere from my last breath to my first smile."

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